


Bound Desire

by firefright, Skalidra



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Slavery, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10709946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefright/pseuds/firefright, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skalidra/pseuds/Skalidra
Summary: Slade Wilson is a man with a secret: an incubus bound to his will. But no matter how tight the bindings, sometimes the incubus, Richard, still finds ways to undermine his control. For that Slade must punish him, and by the use of a slave named Jason, he has the perfect means to make sure the message sticks.





	Bound Desire

**Author's Note:**

> So once upon a time, Skali and Fire stumbled upon the most amazing piece of [Sladin fanart](http://axeeeee.tumblr.com/image/125431537825) on tumblr by [Axeeeee](http://axeeeee.tumblr.com/) and immediately decided we needed to write some porn based on it, with bonus Jason included.
> 
> Extra warning for not-nice!Slade and all that entails. Enjoy!

The merchant is stalling, intentionally or not. Blathering on about taxation rates and the cost of business; a thousand words that don't mean more than a sentence or two, talking in circles that are becoming increasingly less tolerable. Luckily, Slade has a fix for troublesome merchants and their insistence on an abundance of words.

The tattoos that spiral down from the back of his shoulders and frame either side of his spine, ancient words that no one from this realm even claims to understand, are faintly itching already. The physical reminder that he has kept his bound pet hungry; a sensation he's long since learned to ignore, since he does so often. It's a simple enough trick to reach his mind within the solid lines of those bindings and _tug_ , summoning his pet to his side, whether he wishes to be or not.

Slade eases into the chair, swirling the wine in his goblet and simply waiting. He hears the creak of the door, a nearly silent set of footsteps, and then a sharp, sudden silence. He lifts his gaze then, taking in the wide eyes and parted mouth of the merchant, staring at the progress of his pet across the room. His back tingles, bindings reacting and protecting him as a weight settles against the back of his chair and a hand slides down over his shoulder to spread possessively over the center of his chest. He doesn't have to look down to see the dark blue nails, or the lighter blue marks that spiral up that toned, flawless arm all the way to his shoulder.

The other hand settles on his opposite shoulder before the merchant manages to ask, "Who is _that?_ "

Slade lets his lips curl in a small smirk, as the itching of his back grows some; his demon pet's reaction to the presence of someone not immune to his hunger.

"This? This is Richard." The marks on his back pulse at the utterance of part of his pet's true name. "Richard, go say hello to our guest. Be polite." He doesn't look back as the hands slide away from him, golden ornamentation jingling softly against itself as his pet slips around him, to the chair across the low table. The firelight from the candles paints Richard with a golden glow, glinting off of the golden jewelry and the faint sheen to his skin as well. The blue marks up his right arm, from fingers to shoulder, are an alluring distraction, his black hair a sharp counter to the rest of the color. Gorgeous, of course; after all, the human form was meant to please him, before he trapped the demon in it.

"You can call me Dick," his pet murmurs with a smile, settling onto the arm of the merchant's chair and sliding one confident hand around the back of the man's neck.

There's a thin whimper, the man craning up into the touch, reacting to the magic sliding in under his skin.

His pet looks back at him with hungry blue eyes, and Slade grants permission with a small nod. The merchant never has a chance against the slide of his pet's fingers over his jaw and then the press of lips to his own. Fingers dig in _hard_ against the back of the merchant's neck, holding him in place as the human form flickers, tattoos brightening to a brilliant, glowing blue as his pet feeds, eyes glowing the same hue and mouth open as he draws the very life essence from the unfortunate man. (Or very fortunate, depending how you look at it. To be fed on by an incubus is… a hell that could be mistaken for heaven.)

"Enough," he calls, after a few moments. His pet breaks the kiss immediately. "Now, we were about to set terms, weren't we?"

The merchant blinks, staring up at his pet. "Yes. Yes, I— The terms, right."

"You can waive the taxes for me, can't you? It's only a few small numbers, after all, and you know the revenue I can bring you would be… very satisfying."

"I—” The merchant swallows, glancing to him. "I'm not sure I can—”

"I'd be very appreciative," he breaks in, with a pointed glance towards his pet. "When people please me I tend to… reward them."

The merchant's gaze hazes over when his pet leans in, tongue tracing the shell of his ear. "Of course," comes the weak murmur. "Yes, I'm sure I can… accommodate you, Mr. Wilson."

“Excellent. You wouldn’t mind signing this for me then, would you?” He leans forward, sliding the agreement that the merchant had refused to accept not half an hour ago across the table. "Just a small deal between business associates, to… slick the way."

The merchant looks down at it, blinking uncomprehendingly, at least until Richard takes his attention again with a stroke of fingers over his jaw, and a murmured, "It would make me _very_ happy." Slade can see the spark of blue power as it slides down the tattoos on his pet's arm and out of his fingers, sinking into receptive skin and playing around the part of the man's lips. "You want to make me happy, don't you?"

"Of course," comes the breathed answer, and the man leans upwards. Richard deflects the attention, turning the merchant's jaw so his gaze falls on the paper. A nudge from Richard, pushing the merchant forward, and his hand falls to quill and the bottle of ink beside it. Whatever Richard is whispering in his ear, it drives him to sign his name to the bottom, albeit somewhat shakily. More than enough for his purposes.

"Thank you for your support," he offers smoothly, and then lifts his gaze to Richard, who's watching him and certainly not the target. "Richard," he adds, "show the man our appreciation, won't you?"

Slade takes a moment to enjoy how Richard pulls the merchant into a kiss, rendering him utterly senseless to the world around him with another wash of less tempered power. Then he gets to his feet, taking the signed agreement from the table as he circles around, coming up to slide a palm up the center of his pet's bare back. Well, bare except for the golden chains and links hanging in artful loops, anyway. Richard breaks the kiss, head tilting back to look at him.

"Make sure he's able to walk out when you're finished," he orders, tracing his thumb over the jut of one shoulder blade. "Convince him he likes this deal, and I might just bring in a slave for you tonight, pet."

Richard's eyes flare, and the shoulder presses back into his hand. "Yes, master. Thank you."

"Good boy," Slade murmurs, lifting his hand to pat the black hair he so enjoys to pull at. "Come to me when you're done; restraint gets you rewards, remember?"

"Jason?" is the quick question, as Richard tilts a little further back towards him.

He raises an eyebrow, curling his fingers into Richard's hair and tugging a little. "If you do a good job here, and make a good case to me later. One thing at a time, pet. Don't be greedy."

Richard's eyes narrow for a moment, and there's a brief sensation of pressure pulling against his back, but then his pet gives. Gaze lowering, pressure turning into a faint warmth that Slade knows is Richard's attempt to pacify him. He lets it slide, this time. He lets go of the hair coiled around his fingers, pats the top of Richard's head one more time, and heads for the door. After all, his pet has work to do, and he has little interest in watching this particular game.

He shuts the door behind him, and heads for his own rooms. He has an agreement to bind up and store among his many others; it's a collection that he's been gathering since long before Richard was ever there to smooth things out. Trade agreements, concessions, immunity from various organizations that would like to see him hanged for his… background line of work. He's been at this a long time.

Richard can satisfy his desires later, once his work is done. His pet will be wound up, buzzing high on what he's been allowed to devour, and Slade will be able to enjoy all the feedback of that excitement. Richard will be susceptible to his touch, and an excellent target to spend his lust on. That, or a slave, if he decides that Richard deserves a treat.

Maybe, as Richard asked, even their mutual favorite slave. Jason; a boy he found not long after Richard's binding. Tall, pretty, obedient enough not to be outright irritating, and most importantly, not fully human. Oh, he doesn't have wings, or the unnatural eyes and aura of a demon, or anything else that would truly mark him, but the boy has non-human heritage somewhere back in his ancestry. It's precisely enough to keep Richard from killing him when he's truly hungry, and to allow the slave to be one of the very few that has any measure of resistance to Richard's charm.

It's nothing Richard can't overcome, but it's enough to allow him to order the boy around while Richard plays and expect to be heard. Ideally, even obeyed, though that depends on how deep Richard's claws have been sunk into him. And the boy is no hardship to take himself, when he's in the mood for it. Not well trained enough to be like the whores bought and sold in brothels (like light versions of Richard; fake and boring now that Slade's tasted the original), but accustomed enough to servitude that he isn't wild anymore.

Richard just appreciates having a human that won't die when he loses control.

He flattens the paper out on his desk to let the signature dry, and settles in to read through a few of his letters while he waits.

* * *

That job goes well, but three weeks later, it’s a different story entirely.

This time, Slade takes Richard with him to visit a government official in town, one who has access to certain names and locations he’ll need in order to successfully complete his next contract. Using the demon is a subtler method of interrogation than threat or force, and one that is far less likely to bring repercussions back on him should the victim realise what had been done to him later on.

For any man, admitting that he fell apart and let state secrets slip in the name of a pretty face would be far more embarrassing than saying he did the same with a blade at his throat, but this target especially has a reputation for honour and restraint, as well as piety. He won’t talk, not so long as Richard does his job right.

Unfortunately for him and Slade both, he doesn’t.

He’s too lax on his commands this time round, too trusting. He unleashes the demon on the man and Richard is eager to get to work, but also greedy. He pushes too hard and too fast, leaving the target insensible on the floor before Slade has even got half of the information he needs out of him, and as a result he’s hard pressed to keep his anger from spilling out into violence because of it.

As satisfying as it would be for him to mete out his pet’s punishment for this failure with his fists, Slade knows that there are better, infinitely more effective ways to ensure that Richard learns his lesson than with a simple beating.

Heading home, Slade maintains a pretence of calm throughout the carriage ride, keeping his anger reigned in tight to stop Richard from picking up on it. His pet is suspicious, he knows. It’s obvious in the way he keeps sneaking glances at him from underneath the raven fall of his hair; he’s waiting for a harsh word, for disapproval, but Slade holds his tongue, and eventually he can see Richard start to cautiously relax, stretching out on the seat opposite him like an oversized cat.

Good.

Slade immediately dismisses him when they arrive home, before purposefully taking his time in dealing with a few other mundane tasks that need his attention first, as well as eating dinner. The longer he makes his pet wait, the better the results will be. But finally, once his plate is cleared and he’s drank the last of his wine, Slade gets up from his seat and heads down into the kitchens, ignoring the nervous looks and bowed heads of his other slaves and servants to retrieve Jason.

The look on Richard’s face when he enters Slade’s bedroom to see the boy sitting on the bed beside him is exactly what Slade knew it would be. First shocked, then cautiously delighted. Clearly, and rightly, he wasn’t expecting the pleasure of enjoying the boy’s company tonight.

“Master?” His pet asks, still wary enough to not let himself jump to any immediate conclusions.

Slade nods. He puts his hand on Jason’s shoulder, then uses the hold to send him stumbling forwards across the floor toward Richard. “Go on, pet.” he says, smiling, “Enjoy.”

From the moment Slade took him away from his usual work in the kitchen, Jason’s expression has been one of poorly concealed resignation, but as soon as Richard gets close to him that changes. He shudders, long and full-bodied, lips parting even before the first gentle touch of slim fingers to his cheek. When Richard kisses him, he moans like one already being taken, body sinking forwards into the demon’s arms.

“Jason…” His pet sighs, with a warmth Slade could almost believe genuine, and the sentiment is echoed in the grip of pale hands at his bare hips.

From there, it’s safe to say that things escalate quickly. Slade watches as his pet strips the boy down, taking his time in laying warm kisses to every inch of bare skin he can reach before pushing him down onto the floor. Richard is eager, but careful, taking his time in working Jason higher and higher. His tanned fingers caress and stroke all the wickedly sensitive places on the boy’s body, and when Richard retrieves the oil to open him up, he also bends down to slide his mouth over Jason’s cock.

It’s quite the show. One that Slade rather shamelessly enjoys watching from his position on the bed, and by the time he’s stretched and open, there are actual tears of frustration running down Jason’s face.

“Please…” he chokes softly, needily, “Please…”

“Shh…” His pet sooths him. He takes his fingers from Jason’s body, then slides up to kiss him again. “It’s okay, Jason. You’ve been so good for me, it’s okay. I’m here, I promise…”

Muscled thighs spread around Richard’s hips, then grip tight as their mouths press together and his pet gets ready to enter him. It’s precisely the moment Slade’s been waiting for.

"Stop," he orders, and Richard freezes in place, poised over the slave beneath him.

Jason himself has no such command, but practice means that beyond a hard shudder, and the tightening curl of nails into his pet's back, he doesn't move either. Slade doesn't punish slaves for falling victim to his pet's charms, no human could resist them, but he does supremely enjoy that this one has a slight resistance. Just enough non-human in him to allow him a small bit of control, even with Richard currently so thoroughly possessing him.

Richard looks up at him, eyes pleading, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Did you expect a reward, pet?"

"Slade," Richard starts, trembling where he's still poised, muscle tight. " _Please_ , I'm hungry, I—”

"You were _greedy_ on our last job," he reminds the demon. "Drained my target too much for him to give me the information I needed. You set me back a full day, Richard. That's not the sort of thing that I reward; leave him, and kneel in the center of the room."

Richard whines, but has no choice but to obey. Jason’s nails scrape over his shoulders as he moves away, and Richard's eyes dilate, eyes glowing brighter as he pulls away from the waiting meal laid out before him. Jason clutches at the wood beneath him, arches and bites into his own lip, stifling what's nearly a sob, but doesn't chase after his pet. Better than any of his other slaves would manage.

"Come here, boy," Slade directs towards the slave, holding out a hand.

Jason takes two tries to rise, but finally manages to take his hand and allow himself to be pulled forward. He takes a long, slow kiss, feels the need in it and the way his slave is trembling, worked higher than should be possible thanks to his demon pet.

"It's alright," he reassures, stroking a hand down the Jason's back and letting his fingers slide inside that slick heat, already opened and ready for him. "I'll satisfy you, boy. Turn around, hands and knees."

Richard has a perfect view when he sinks down to the floor behind Jason, takes his hips in hand, and _slams_ deep into the boy. He doesn't waste time drawing it out; his slave is nearly sobbing beneath him, nails clawing at the wood, hips pushing frantically back against his own. Even without actually feeding, Richard makes people desperate for him. Or, for someone else.

Richard watches, hungry enough that the marks down his back almost burn, and he meets those blue eyes as he buries a hand in Jason's hair and holds his head down at an angle for Richard to see his expression. There’s a reason this slave is a favorite of both of them, and for more reasons than just the fact that he can survive Richard's attention, unlike a normal human. Tall, handsome, with that unique white streak to his hair and a fit, only minorly marked body. If he didn't have Richard to use, he might’ve kept Jason as a full time bedwarmer in his stead.

It doesn't take long at all for the slave to cry out and come against the floor, which draws a quiet keen from Richard. He narrows his eyes and fucks harder, slamming into the boy hard enough he's sure to leave bruises, using him like he's _not_ allowing Richard to. Not this time.

He wrenches the boy up when he comes as well, dragging him up and against his chest and giving a loud, unabashed moan into the back of his neck. Richard shudders, whines, but isn't dumb enough to actually beg.

"Good boy," he murmurs into the slave's throat, before pushing him forward and back to his hands and knees. "Lie down on the foot of my bed; I'll want you later."

"Yes, master," Jason says, voice rough and somewhat tired. His legs are shaky when he crawls over, climbing onto the bed and curling up in Richard's usual spot.

Slade stands and walks over to Richard, kneeling down in front of him and taking his chin in hand. "You," he starts, voice low and whispered between them, "are going to go and offer yourself to every single one of my men. Every one that accepts, you're going to let take you, once. You're not going to feed off any of them. When you're done, if you've behaved, and if your apology is convincing enough, I'll let you have Jason."

Richard shivers, whimpering, but presses into his hand and whispers, "Yes, sir."

He stands then, letting his fingers slide off Richard's chin. "Go on then. Don't waste time."

Richard looks to the slave for a moment, hunger clear in the yearning edge to his expression, but gets up to leave without argument. He's learned in the time that Slade's kept him bound to not pick fights he can't win.

* * *

Jason is asleep by the time Richard comes back to them. The hour is late, and Slade has enjoyed the slave more than once since he left. Exhausted, and curled up into a surprisingly small ball on the foot of the bed, he’s a pleasant sight with bites and scratches marring his pale skin, as well as dried come between his thighs — yet he can’t hold a candle to Richard, who appears in the doorway completely _wrecked_ as a result of Slade’s orders.

“Master…” he says, shaking, naked as his eyes and tattoos glow with light. He’s down on his knees as soon as he enters the room, crawling towards Slade piteously with his need. Slade restrains a smirk at the sight of his degradation, keeping his expression hard and displeased instead while he waits for Richard to fulfill the second half of his order.

“Yes?”

He’s desperate, _starving._ Every free man there is employed on Slade’s estate will have had his pet tonight, unable to resist the temptation the demon offered even when he wasn’t actively trying to lure them. All part and parcel of the punishment of course, Slade had known when he made the command that none would refuse him; had felt it, lashing along the tattoos on his back as Richard writhed beneath pleasure he wasn’t allowed to consume.

It was part of the reason why he’d kept the slave waiting in his bedroom, knowing he’d want to work that feedback of emotion off himself. The bindings give Slade the power to resist Richard’s seductions, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the feeling of his frustration, and the boy had been a perfect outlet for that.

“Please…” Richard’s hands brush his feet as he lowers himself still further to the floor, gold clinking over his arms and chest. His back is a network of bites, bruises, and nail marks that have yet to heal — have even possibly been consciously left as a sign of his obedience. “Please… I’m sorry… I won’t do it again, please…”

Slade waits, doing nothing except to tap the quill he’s been using to write with impatiently on the surface of his desk.

Now almost completely prone, Richard swallows. “I swear. I swear it. Please, Master. Slade, I’m so _hungry_.” His head lowers, lips touching Slade’s foot in an almost-frenzied attempt to absolve himself of his crime. “Please. I’m begging you, let me _feed._ ”

Only then, unseen, does Slade allow himself to smile.

Slade turns to his pet then, setting the quill down and reaching down with his other hand to lightly tug at one clean lock of hair. His pet looks up at him, and he leans down, cupping his jaw to bring him up high enough that he can brush their lips together. No deeper; he has an idea the kinds of places his pet's mouth has been tonight. Richard whimpers, and he parts his mouth, accesses the binds between them, and exhales a thin thread of his own essence between his pet's parted lips. The sound Richard gives is desperate, but his pet doesn't reach for him, and doesn't claw at his energy like he used to. "Go on then," he grants. "Wake him up gently, Richard. Don't take more than he can stand."

Slade turns in his chair to watch the show as Richard rises, bowing his head gratefully with a whispered, “Thank you, Master.” on his lips before he crosses to the bed.

His walk is predatory, but soft. The same goes for his touch as his fingers land on the slave’s shoulder, skimming down his arm before he leans in to kiss his lips in a manner that could almost be called tender. “Jason.” Richard purrs, eyes greedily taking in the sight of the boy’s own desecration. “Jason, wake up for me, sweet boy.”

It hardly takes anything. The slave’s eyes flutter open, and Slade reads a single moment of panic in their teal-hue before it fades away to be replaced by expectation and lust. He turns his head, meeting his pet’s next kiss with a sleepy but eager sound as Richard’s hand continues moving downwards over his body and between his legs.

“So wet still,” The demon kisses his mouth again when he finds what he’s looking for, sighing contentedly at finally being allowed to touch. The slave’s hips tilt as he rolls onto his back, thighs instinctively spreading wide. “So slick, ready and open. You’ve been good today, haven’t you? Been so well _used._ ”

This time the boy moans, head falling back as his pet climbs over him.

“You want to be good for me too, don’t you, Jason? Don’t you want to please me? Give me everything I desire? Everything you have?”

The words aren’t necessary to his craft, but Slade thinks Richard simply enjoys speaking them. Likes the pretense of control he has in this situation and this situation only. A brief moment of being allowed to let what he truly is shine through.

“Y-yes… sir…” The boy pants already, hips rocking upwards. His inhuman heritage shines through in his stamina: the fact that after being fucked three times already, he can take the incubus’ power washing over him without becoming a withered husk. “I want to… Please…”

His pet is too hungry to be patient now. If Slade had allowed him Jason earlier, he might have taken him slowly and savoured the moment, but this time he’s starving, and the only thing holding him back is Slade’s command that he be gentle with the boy. But then, he smirks to himself, he did only specify gentleness when it came to waking Jason up. After that… it will be interesting to see if Richard recognises the opportunity in the moments ahead, or if his own hunger will blind him to the loophole Slade has left open to him.

His lips are on the slave’s neck now, licking over and tracking the pathways Slade’s own mouth has already taken. The laves of his tongue remind Slade of a hungry dog licking at a table, chasing the taste of food long since removed.

“Please…” His slave whimpers again at the attention, “P-please, sir…”

Richard isn’t his master, isn’t _Slade,_ but still he addresses him by a title, and Slade allows it, if only because it pleases his own ears to hear. They may both be slaves to his will, but one certainly does rank above the other.

“Call out for me, Jason,” his pet hisses, “Worship me. _Beg_ me.” His fingers draw out between from between the slave’s legs. “Let me hear your voice.”

Slade leans back in his chair, knowing it best not to appear too involved with what’s going on — not unless he specifically ordered them to put on a show for him, that is. Still, he can’t help the avid focus of his eye as Richard presses his slim body between Jason’s thighs.

“Please—ahh!”

One smooth motion is all it takes for Richard to bury himself inside his slave, the way already eased for him by Slade himself. The boy immediately arches, back bending right off the bed as he sinks his nails into Richard’s shoulders and shrieks in pleasure. It wasn’t even a hard thrust, but after being taken three times already — and with Richard’s power eating through him — he has to be more than a little sensitive. Probably too sensitive for comfort (if he were anything close to still being in his right mind, that is).

“Dick.” He pants, Richard’s preferred name for using with his targets. “Dick, _sir._ I… please… I can’t…”

His pet purrs in responds, eyes and tattoos shining as he greedily drinks it in. Crooning,“That’s right, Jason,” against the slave’s ear as he sets up a steady rhythm of movement within him. The boy’s legs he hauls up around his waist, guiding him to cling ever tighter to the being currently draining his life-force. “Just like that.”

Slade almost chuckles at the slave’s helplessness in the face of Richard’s assault. Deciding he might as well enjoy himself, Slade abandons his work entirely and reaches for the cup of wine he keeps beside him on his desk, taking his time in sipping it as the two on the bed writhe together in a tangled mess of pleasure. It’s not poised, or even particularly pretty, but it is _raw_ and passionate, which is in many ways better.

There is no mercy in his pet as he eats away at the boy beneath him, taking and taking with inhuman greed, and the slave, poor bewitched creature that he is, barely cares in the moment as his movements grow steadily weaker, his shouts ever more feeble despite the conjured need to please Richard has inspired in him. A feast that culminates in the moment Jason comes, uttering his pet’s name with a hoarse, failing shout. His voice cracks along with his resistance, and then he’s limp beneath Richard, an open vessel for the demon to finish in himself.

Which Richard does, seemingly having realised the loophole in Slade’s command after all. His movements grow quicker, rougher, as he leaves marks across the boy’s neck and shoulders everywhere Slade hasn’t. Pale skin becomes a veritable patchwork of red teeth marks before Richard is satisfied.

Then, finally, he lets himself come, climaxing as deeply inside Jason as he can possibly get with a strangled moan of his own. Slade takes another sip of his wine as he watches his pet curl over the boy, no doubt basking in the sense of fullness and sated hunger that comes in the aftermath of his feeding. He’ll stay there, pressed inside Jason, for hours if Slade lets him, eager to take from the boy again as soon as he’s recovered even the slightest bit.

Slade knows, because he’s caught Richard at it before, and specifically had to create the rule that banned him from spending time at Jason’s side unless he was there with him because of it. If he hadn’t, he’s not even sure the boy would still be with them now. Incubi aren’t exactly famed for their sense of self-control in these situations, and accidents do happen.

“That’s enough now.” He says, setting his wine down and getting to his feet. “Get off him, pet. Let him have some chance of moving again before the week is through.”

“But Slade…” Richard protests as he comes closer, fingers digging deeper into the meat of Jason’s arms. “Just a little more, please.”

“No.” he says firmly. A quick glance down confirms that the slave has indeed passed out. Slade reaches out and grabs Richard by his hair, “Being greedy already got you into trouble once tonight. Don’t force me to make you repeat the experience because you failed to control yourself a second time.”

The demon just barely holds back a snarl at the reminder, though Slade can still see the minute tugging of his lips against his teeth. With obvious reluctance he forces himself to let go of Jason, allowing Slade to guide him back further up the bed. Richard’s limbs go loose and pliant as he readies himself to sink down into it, doubtless thinking they’re done for the night, but in that he’s only half-right.

“You stink.” Slade says as he instead drags him off the mattress, uncaring as the demon stumbles over the floor, natural grace lost for a moment. He makes a show of sniffing the air to emphasise his point. “Go get yourself cleaned up. Then maybe I’ll consider letting you sleep in my bed tonight.”

Richard stumbles again at the shove of his hand towards the door. For a moment when he looks back at Slade, it’s with bare fury, then the expression is quickly smoothed over. He bows his head, “Yes, master.”

Hm, he’ll have to punish him for that later too.

Slade sits down on the bed beside Jason, making sure to rest one hand possessively on the unconscious boy’s thigh before, with one final glance cast back at them, his pet leaves through the door for the bath chamber beyond.

**Author's Note:**

> [Firefright's tumblr](https://firefrightfic.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Skalidra's tumblr](http://skalidra.tumblr.com/)


End file.
